


They Stitch The Past of Me

by liketreesinnovember



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Erections, F/M, Kissing, Past Abuse, Scars, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 08:57:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20721587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketreesinnovember/pseuds/liketreesinnovember
Summary: Prompt from tumblr. Sansa/Tyrion, the things you didn't say at all.





	They Stitch The Past of Me

Tyrion lay on the bed on his stomach as Sansa trailed fingers lightly over his back, tracing his shoulders, the line of his spine down to where the bedsheet covered his lower half. When her fingers found one of several long, raised scars that crossed his back, she felt him tense suddenly, but he did not flinch away. They were old scars, and were not painful to the touch, and though Tyrion loved for her to touch him like this, and often asked her to, he would sometimes forget himself, remembering the old fear that lived deep in his body, the fear of his own imperfections.

Tyrion never talked about these scars or about much that troubled him, but Sansa sometimes woke in the night to the sound of his cries, to see him twisting, hands knotted in the bedsheets, as if fighting some invisible enemy. At those times she would put her arms around him, and he would look at her, and she would see the naked terror in his face which only lasted for a moment before it was replaced by shame. He never looked so scared during the daytime, and during these nights he was not truly awake, and would not remember anything in the morning. Or if he did, he merely never spoke of it.

Sansa smoothed her hands over the puckered flesh as if wiping the hurt away, although she could not truly fix what had already been done. She felt the tension ease from his back muscles. There was a time when he would not let her touch him at all, nor be in her presence unclothed, but loving someone meant that you loved all of them. Even the things he would not say.

Tyrion turned abruptly onto his back, and stared up at Sansa sitting on the bed. The bedsheet had fallen past his thighs, his hardness plainly visible. There was a time when he might have covered that, too, or looked away from her, even as they made love, but now his eyes met hers and did not shy away.

She leaned down, one hand cupping his manhood as she kissed him.


End file.
